


Pushing Boundaries

by manic_intent



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, That modern AU where Haytham runs a mercenary spy agency and recruits Shay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:34:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manic_intent/pseuds/manic_intent
Summary: “You are a thoroughly annoying man,” said the boss. He didn’t even look up from his book as Shay sauntered noiselessly onto the rooftop terrace. It was a bleak morning, and the sun wasn’t doing shit for warmth.“Aww. You hurt my feelings, sir.” Shay pressed his hands playfully over his heart. He walked right up to Haytham and tried to tip down the book, only for Haytham to snap it shut and smack the heavy spine into Shay’s ribs. Shay yelped and stumbled back, sprawling into one of the armchairs. He grinned, staying where he was. “Now that ain’t so friendly. I haven’t been back in yonks.”





	Pushing Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brokibrodinson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/gifts).



> For brokibrodinson, who asked for Haytham/Shay. Ahh it’s been a while since I wrote Haytham. 
> 
> Shay Cormac is one of the more interesting characters in the Asscreed series IMO, because he’s a Templar who used to be an assassin. I actually found the Rogue game surprisingly fun, even though Black Flag is a hard game to follow. I couldn’t really get into Unity, didn’t bother with Syndicate, and only got back into AC again with Origins and Odyssey. What I found kind of odd about Rogue is how Shay falls under Haytham’s sway so quickly, given Shay is quite a compassionate man and Haytham just likes murder. 
> 
> Haytham and Shay cutscenes for those curious: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PPZZ-gwM9tk. Also, the game’s been remastered: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcGeJ5Ef89I

“You are a thoroughly annoying man,” said the boss. He didn’t even look up from his book as Shay sauntered noiselessly onto the rooftop terrace. It was a bleak morning, and the sun wasn’t doing shit for warmth. 

“Aww. You hurt my feelings, sir.” Shay pressed his hands playfully over his heart. He walked right up to Haytham and tried to tip down the book, only for Haytham to snap it shut and smack the heavy spine into Shay’s ribs. Shay yelped and stumbled back, sprawling into one of the armchairs. He stayed where he was. “Now that ain’t so friendly. I haven’t been back in yonks.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Haytham said wearily. He glared at Shay, but the effect, as always, was ruined by just how bloody gorgeous he was. Even the poncy little ponytail that his dark hair was bound into looked hot. The BBC accent was the icing on top, even if the fact that it was such a turn-on made Shay feel like a traitor to his Irish heritage. 

“I thought you might like to know. Mission accomplished and all that,” Shay said. He made a show of looking around. “You live in this place all by your ownsies? Kinda took you for a villa-in-the-country sort of man.” 

“The assassination was a goddamned mess,” Haytham said. 

“Man died, didn’t he? It’s done.” 

“Somehow I expected a little more subtlety out of you. I understand that the situation in Yemen may be quite kinetic, but the client’s complained. I expect a full debrief about your mission, particularly all the inexplicable property damage that occurred—on _Monday_. In the office.” 

Shay was used to Haytham’s disappointment. He made a playful gesture. “Grand.”

Haytham frowned as Shay didn’t move. “You may leave,” he said pointedly. 

“Could be I wanted a little chat, all private like,” Shay said. He didn’t drop his gaze when Haytham met his eyes, and after a few heartbeats, Haytham looked away, settling into his chair. 

“If you must, be quick.”

“Now, I don’t want to be rehashing old history and all that, but when you poached me out of MI6 into SOLOMON you were banging on about how you wanted to change the world for the better,” Shay said, “rather than ‘reinforce colonial attitudes for venal governments’, I think you said.” 

Haytham inclined his head. “I see your memory is still functional. Unlike your manners.” 

“I ain’t some innocent little lamb. I could’ve guessed a mercenary intelligence outfit like yours couldn’t be all kumbayas and sweet summer rainbows. Thing is, mate, I was hoping it’d be less of the same.” Shay quietly braced his feet as Haytham stayed quiet. Ah, well. In for a penny, in for a fucking pound. “Murdering clerics to destabilise already fecked up countries, killing warlords in the Congo to take over control of mining ops… this is the sort of shit that I used to get up to.” 

“The plan remains the same,” Haytham said. He ticked it off on his fingers. “Order. Peace. The survival of the planet. Taking control of damaging operations to reduce their impact. Making sure the right people get into power.” 

“Heard you the first time,” Shay said, wagging his finger, “just that I’ve been having my doubts, me. Whether I’m being strung along for a ride. I used to hate what I do. Funny thing—I still do.” 

Haytham pursed his lips. “Your inability to grasp the bigger picture is contributing to your job dissatisfaction. You have access to the SOLOMON network. Educate yourself.” 

“You ain’t the one embedded for months in places that foreigners have turned into a living hell,” Shay growled. He swung his leg off the armrest, leaning his elbows over his knees. Under his black coat, he had a pistol in a shoulder holster, a knife in a boot. They might not work against Haytham. Haytham Kenway was still a legend in MI6. Even though everyone thought the way he now made a living was rather crass. 

Haytham inclined his head. “Your devotion to the mission is noted. As are your complaints. You are a man of singular talents, Shay. It’s unfortunate that the application of said talents appears to now give you pause.” 

“That’s a real savage way of saying that the only thing I’m good for is murder, so I might as well shut up and keep at it,” Shay said. He’d guessed that this would be the result of any little chat he tried to have with his current employer, but it annoyed him anyway. 

“Not in so many words. You’re welcome to quit at any time. Finished?” 

“Indulge me. Exactly how is the increased shitshow in Yemen and the Congo good for anyone?” Shay demanded. “You should visit. Walk through the land. Especially Yemen. People are starving to death there. Dragged off to be tortured. It’s a fecking disaster and a _half_.”

“The grand plan is—”

“Is bullshit. The world don’t look much better now than it was when I signed on… Jesus!” 

Haytham had gone from sitting primly in an armchair to bent over Shay, a hand clenched in Shay’s collar. “Don’t. _Interrupt_. Me.” 

Shay forced his hand to twitch away from his coat. He bared his teeth. “I’ll interrupt you whenever I want. I quit. You’re seriously hot, but bullshit stinks no matter how much you dress it up.” 

“You aren’t going to quit,” Haytham said. 

“Oh aye? How’d you figure that?” 

“I know you and your sort.” Haytham bent closer, nearly nose-to-nose. “You may bitch and complain all you like, Mister Cormac, but the fact remains that you love what you do. That’s why you’re so good at it. It’s why you won’t quit, for all your unwarranted doubts about me. You’re predictable.” 

“Yeah?” Shay said, "you predict this?” He swung at Haytham, catching him on the jaw. 

Haytham cursed. He staggered back, touching his jaw, and let out a snarl of outrage as Shay pounced. Haytham’s back slammed onto the deck. He ducked out of the way of Shay’s swing and drove the corner of his book into Shay’s throat. As Shay coughed and jerked back, Haytham kicked him into the stomach. Shay’s back hit the edge of the glass coffee table hard enough that he yelled. He gathered his feet under him and tackled Haytham, rolling them both to the start of the glass spiral stairs. 

“Predictable,” Haytham said. He rammed the hard edge of his book into Shay’s ribs. Shay winced but deflected the next blow, kneeing Haytham in the stomach. As Haytham gasped, winded, Shay wrestled him onto his front, pinning him and jerking the book out of his hands. 

“‘The Uninhabitable Earth’,” Shay read out. “Fun light reading, sir.”

“You should give it a try. Reading, that is,” Haytham said. He looked not in the least concerned about being pinned under Shay, with an arm twisted behind his back.

“You’re a cheeky bugger.” Shay tossed the book aside, making Haytham scowl as it clattered against the coffee table. “You predicted yourself losing, old man?” 

“You’re younger than me and an active field agent. It wasn’t beyond the realms of possibility.”

“Why bother picking a fight, then?” 

“To illustrate a point. About your inability to look deeper than the surface.” Haytham pressed the wrist of his free hand against Shay’s thigh. There was something under his sleeve, an unyielding give. “I could, for example, stab you with the knife I have up my sleeve. But that would put you out of commission for a couple of weeks, even if I don’t nick an artery. A waste.” 

“I also have a knife. And a gun.” 

“Good for you. Outstanding.” 

Shay knew he should be annoyed, but he laughed instead and let off, sitting down and stretching out his legs. “Lord, you’re irritating.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Haytham said. He sat up and righted his clothes. Still so goddamned proper. 

“I’m still quitting,” Shay said, even though saying it out aloud now sounded like he was joking.

“No. You won’t.” Haytham looked him over. “You may have qualms about obeying me, but you _do_ obey me. Why is that?”

“I’m a sucker for pain? Curiosity?” 

“It’s terribly obvious, isn’t it?” 

“Tell me. I’m all ears.”

“You’ve been making eyes at me ever since we met,” Haytham said evenly, “and it was amusing, at first. Now I’m beginning to wonder whether you do indeed enjoy working against your own interests.” 

Shay stared at Haytham for a long, incredulous moment. “What?” 

Haytham got to his feet, gesturing imperiously at Shay. “You’re not going to quit, you’re just throwing a tantrum because you think your concerns are being ignored. They aren’t, I assure you, but as a token of goodwill, I’m willing to briefly indulge your amusing infatuation with me. Well?” 

“Did you just. Invite me to fuck you? So that I don’t quit?” Shay said slowly, in sheer disbelief. 

Haytham rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t stoop that low. I’m inviting you to bed because I have a busy day up ahead. If I have to spend any part of it dealing with your insecurities, I’d rather do that in a pleasurable manner.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Shay said, getting to his feet and walking over. “I’ve had the bad luck of getting to know a number of total bastards in my life, but you’re the biggest arsehole I’ve ever met.” He smirked. “Sir.”

#

“It actually makes sense that you’re a terrible lay,” Shay said as he pushed Haytham onto his back on the ridiculously large bed.

Haytham shot him an annoyed look. “Yet you’re back. That tells me a lot about your character or lack thereof, Mister Cormac.”

“Nobody says ‘thereof’ in normal conversation.” Shay leaned in for a kiss and laughed as Haytham jerked to the side. He planted a sloppy kiss on Haytham’s delicate cheekbones instead, snickering as Haytham let out an indignant sound. “Your problem is, you’re so hot that you’ve probably never had to actually please anyone before. Your partners were probably just grateful that you even got naked.” 

“Careful,” Haytham said in a low growl, “my urge to stab you in the gut is rising quickly.” 

“Aye, we’ll get something else rising quickly first.” Shay rubbed his arse shamelessly over Haytham’s thickening cock. 

Haytham cursed, running his elegant fingers over Shay’s muscular frame. Fingertips pressed over the old scar on Shay’s face, curling up into his short black hair and pulling him down for a kiss. When Haytham could be bothered, he was a thorough kisser. His tongue flicked against Shay’s, curling deeper, demanding a taste. Shay stripped Haytham’s shirt off, running his hands greedily over the muscle tone. He’d been surprised by it, the first time, though he shouldn’t have been. Haytham might appear to spend all his time in an office but old habits probably died hard. He had the sleek and efficient muscle of a soldier who kept himself in shape, not the bulky ‘pretty’ tone of a gym buff. Just like Shay. 

“I thought we might skip ahead,” Shay said as he tossed Haytham’s belt aside and unbuttoned his trousers. 

“Do tell,” Haytham said. His hands were loose by his side, not even bothering to touch Shay or angle up for another kiss. Lazy arsehole. 

Shay couldn’t even be annoyed about that. With Haytham’s fine hair tugged loose and the man displayed like this on his posh bed, he looked like the cover model for a lurid romance model. Shay’s cock pulsed impatiently in his jeans. “I might of prepped before I got here,” Shay said, grinning wickedly and rubbing his ass against Haytham’s thigh. “We should skip right to the main event.” 

Instead of being properly appreciative, Haytham made a dismissive gesture. “What’s the rush?” 

Stunned, Shay looked up at Haytham’s mildly inquiring expression. “You’re the one always complaining about being too busy to…” He trailed off as Haytham started to smirk. “You are such an arse,” Shay growled as he stripped off his clothes in urgent jerks. 

“Carry on, Mister Cormac.” The bastard actually checked his goddamned watch. “I have a meeting to attend in a couple of hours, and I’d rather not attend it looking rumpled.” 

“I hate you sometimes.” Shay spat on his palm as he drew Haytham’s cock out of his silk boxers, stroking it. The boss even had a gorgeous cock, thick and long. Shay reached for the supplies in the side drawer, fishing out a condom and rolling it onto Haytham. 

“You don’t. You like being taken in hand. Told what to do. You bite and snap at your handlers sometimes, but when it comes to me…” Haytham crooked his fingers. Shay was leaning in before he could even stop himself, allowing long fingers to pat his cheek. “You will always do what I want.” 

Shay nipped Haytham’s fingers pointedly, but that only got him an irritated frown. Mourning the last of his self-respect, Shay straddled Haytham, hissing as he sat himself down on that fine cock. He didn’t bother waiting long for his body to adjust, impatient for more. Always for more, with a feast laid out before him, ungracious as it was. Haytham leaned up on his elbows to watch, a faint flush climbing on his cheeks as Shay started to ride him. Sinking down to the root with a moan, rising up to the tip before using his weight to drop back down. Stroking his own cock slowly. Giving a show.

Haytham slapped Shay’s knee. “I don’t have the time for this. Harder.” 

Shay glowered at Haytham and pinned his wrists to the bed. “I swear to God you’re going to take what I give you and be grateful for it. And if that means you’re going to be late to your fecking meeting then you’d just have to be fecking late, eh?” 

“Gratefulness is going to be a long ask,” Haytham said, though he grudgingly braced his heels and rocked up into Shay. Once Haytham shut up, they fit together perfectly, falling easily within sync. Shay would’ve liked to say that they were similar people deep down, but he’d know that to be a lie. Haytham wasn’t like Shay at all, or anyone Shay had ever met over the long course of a variable career in espionage. He didn’t seem to fit easy labels. Saying that he was ruthless, or a bastard, evil, or a psychopath, all of it was true and yet not enough.

Shay was drawn to the totality of what he knew Haytham to be and yet could not describe. He might be the one pinning Haytham to the bed and taking his pleasure but Haytham was the one pulling the strings. Giving Shay only enough of a leash to remind him of his collar. He moaned and rode Haytham harder anyway, desperate, chasing more. Shay was always loud when he came, shouting his pleasure. Haytham was quiet. His lips parted in a silent gasp, then he lay back against the bed, closing his eyes. 

Shay cleaned them both up and nosed around the bedroom, curious. Last time they hadn’t made it this far—he’d gone down on Haytham on the roof terrace, after which Haytham had kicked him out. There were almost no personal effects on display anywhere, except for a card left on the dresser. Shay picked it up. “Happy Father’s Day? Really?”

“That’s private,” Haytham said, though he didn’t sound annoyed. 

Shay opened the card. There was a photo glued inside of a woman and a boy, both of them grinning and making rude gestures at the camera. “Wife and son?” Shay wasn’t sure what to feel about that. The card was signed by ‘Ratonhnhaké:ton’ and ‘Kaniehtí:io’. 

“Brief affair and son.” Haytham was dressing slowly and with care. “She didn’t even tell me I had a son. He was the one who tracked me down.”

The kid didn’t look older than ten. “Smart kid.” 

“That’s what I thought. I got in contact with Ziio and offered to have our son sent to Eton. She refused.” Haytham wrinkled his nose. “Won’t take any money either. We’re not particularly on speaking terms, though I do get the occasional message from Connor.” 

“What d’you guys talk about?” Shay said, absolutely fascinated. He couldn’t imagine Haytham having any fatherly instincts whatsoever. 

“I do believe that the last we spoke, Connor told me that the world was ending because of ‘white men’ like me who had ‘more power and influence than sense’.” Haytham sighed. 

Shay snickered. “He does have a point. I like this kid already.”

“You would. That’s why I’d like to send you to Franklin County. Get in touch with Connor and Ziio and send me a report.” 

“You want to use your mercenary espionage operation to spy on your ex and kid,” Shay said, raising his eyebrows. “You really do have more power and influence than sense.” 

“No, I’m sending a trusted friend to check on two people who I do still care about,” Haytham said impatiently. “It’s up to you whether you’d like to go, but I’d take it as a personal favour.” 

“Not gonna ask me to convince them to send the kid to fancy school?” 

“Your opinions about ‘fancy school’ are indeed very well known, Mister Cormac.” 

“Fine,” Shay said. He was curious anyway. “When do I leave?”

**Author's Note:**

> Asscreed Notes:  
> I recently read a YA Arabic high fantasy book called We Hunt the Flame that is clearly an asscreed fanfic. Some character names weren’t even changed—Altair and Haytham are in the book. I didn’t quite manage to get to the end—the worldbuilding was great but I don’t read het asscreed stories so I kept getting whiplash whenever Altair appeared. Still, I rec the book if you’re willing to read het. 
> 
> Refs:  
> https://www.aljazeera.com/ajimpact/blackwater-founder-expands-operations-dr-congo-reuters-190613143031503.html  
> https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/aramroston/mercenaries-assassination-us-yemen-uae-spear-golan-dahlan  
> https://www.idesignarch.com/elegant-contemporary-mayfair-penthouse-with-sleek-glass-spiral-staircase/
> 
> twitter: @manic_intent  
> about my writing etc: manic-intent.tumblr.com  
> 


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